The Doctor and The Dancer's Element
by Geneivere StarryEyes
Summary: The Doctor meets a twentieth century girl in late eighteen hundred India after losing Donna. Adventure ensues. Set some time after the Christmas special.
1. Chapter 1

**_Hello dear readers, so I have been on a creative high lately or maybe it's just a whoverse high. Anyhow it's yielding some very interesting results. This is some of what I wrote. There's an angel in there, and there's running, and it's going to be quite a ride. If things keep going like this._**

**_So enjoy part one of a Dancer's element._**

* * *

I'm running, while my heart thuds in my ears. I'm late - I'm going to be so late. The bus lurches forward, without me. It's eleven and I just missed my bus, the next one is going to pass by in about fifteen minutes. The people that hired me to dance at their wedding to entertain guests are going to be very angry if I get there late. And taxi's cost money, more money than I like to see go on public transport. English money is strange, I can't get over how little value it has, say compared to Trinidadian money. Or even the US dollar.

I take a taxi never the less, the driver staring at my purple and blue dance gharara, the scarf piece is over my middrif and he looks like he wishes it would move a little.

"Eyes on the road Drive!" I snap.

"_Immigrant,"_ He insults.

I eye him disdainfully, "You should talk _cabbie."_ I say the word 'Cabbie' with all the most distaste I can manage, "Driiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiivaaaaaaa aaaa, yuh cyah talk because I giving you money, not the other way."

He screeches to a stop, and tells me get out and I oblige. I also don't pay him. The minor traffic jam behind is motive for him to drive off.

I run, dodging people walking, and skirting round corners. It's not too far, just around this next park. If I go through the park, I can get there faster. I can see the reception hall, pristine and pretty. I brace against a tree and breath.

You can dance they say,

People will pay they say,

No one ever told me that I would be running to weddings that aren't even mine but I guess that my fault. I look up and notice an old statue of an angel. That sure looks out of place in a park full of new benches and water fountains.

I finish dying from effort, and walk – straight into another statue. I'm face to face with it. It's old, and nearly grey, and taller than me by two feet. Its hands are over its face like its weeping. I look back at the other one.

It isn't there.

I look back, and the statue is snarling at me, eyes no longer hidden, with fangs or very long teeth. It's arms are stretched out to me, long hands and it hates me. I feel the full force of its marble eyes. I blink.

* * *

_She blinks and when she opens her eyes, she knows something is wrong, terribly wrong because every one is babbling in Hindi. And, and worse there are horse drawn rickshaws. And the women are wearing saris. Not the flashy, ready made one piece that are only slipped on, but cotton, pleated lengths of cloth. And there's the occasional British looking face but not many._

_She looks at her hands and them up, the street is crowded, and there are no telephone lines above. People are staring at her, and wondering. And she realizes she seems out of place. Her dress garishly opulent compared to theirs – the cut wrong, the creases wrong._

_She isn't just out of place._

_She tries to remember what little Hindi she knows – the phrases she learnt from Bollywood movie and from her grandmother. She realizes she can't ask what year this is – that she only learned simple verbs, and stupid expressions._

_Bollywood characters don't ask what date it is in their stories – because those stories are timeless._

_Now she supposes she's timeless too._


	2. Chapter 2

**So my lost in time girl meets the doctor. **

* * *

_It's been eighteen months since I have been here in the 1800, 1844 to be exact. It didn't take much to figure out that I had gone back in time. I don't know how or why, but that it must have had something to do with that angel. Its face haunts me, that cruel, terrifying, distorted face. At night it comes back to me in dreams. _

_Two years is hardly anytime, yet it seems like all the time in the world._

_I was rescued by a kind person who took me back to their village. He and his sister gave me a place to stay; they've taken me in like their own. And it reminds me of my own mother and grandmother. They must think I'm dead. Anusha knows some English, and I know some Hindi. So we teach other. I help out around the house, and do what ever I can to replay them._

_And I also dance._

_They are festive, enduring and resilient, and proud. Just the way I had imagined my mother's ancestors to be. _

* * *

I was making a trip into the main town the first time I meet him. It was late evening and the sun was sinking into twilight – leaving the bright orange to sublime into fading shades of lilac and pale indigo before the violet of night takes them away. At first, it was like I didn't see him – like I didn't want to. A tall shadow against a wall, I glimpsed him out the corner of my eye as I stepped on the road. And the image blurred, but I turned back and there he was - solid, and tall, and pale. And wrong – my senses rang, and echoed. The clothes he was wearing was familiar to me and yet so strange. He was wearing a peanut coloured trench coat that went down to his feet, and a pinstriped suit underneath- Light periwinkle blue strips on dark brown.

I knew why it looked wrong – in the funny way that I wasn't from the eighteen hundreds, it wasn't from here either. I remembered home at that moment. Salesmen who bothered people at all hours, teachers' that bothered to dress properly for their classes. I stumbled that moment.

My eyes took in the _backcombed_ mess of brown hair, the thin cheeks and the drawn expression. Like he had seen too much, or was disappointed with himself. He leaned easily and observed everything around him. The people hurried, the last of the people heading home for the night or heading to the entertainment. I stumbled again towards him, my chest tight. If I could only touch him, just one touch to make sure he's real. Then what? Another one stuck in time like me? Anther lost soul? I lost my footing at that moment and fell – jagging my palms.

The world spun and righted and spun.

And someone put their hands on my shoulders, then rubbed my back briskly, "Its okay, you poor thing – its okay – breath, come on breath…"

I gulped air, and looked at him, "Who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor and I can take you home."

The world went dark then.

* * *

P.O.V The Doctor

I didn't really know why my TARDIS had dropped me off in eighteen forty five India, I had no clue really. But there must be some reason, there's always a reason. And so I got out and started to investigate. Thought it wasn't with the usual vigor that I usually set out with. I was keeping the regret and grief that I was feeling locked up, and I was holding myself from prancing around senselessly. I couldn't, I just couldn't – it all seemed meaningless at the moment.

Danger, it followed me wherever I went. It seems to have stained the furthest corners of my soul. The tragedy was too much this time I think.

I lost my best friend. Donna, I miss her so much, much more than I should. I turn around sometimes, and expect to meet her mocking, bantering, disdainful expressions but they're not there any more. I'm alone again. They all leave – some die, some forget, some get left behind, all my dear companions. They span the universe, diverse personalities. I know I can't travel alone, that it's just not the same but how can an old man like me handle the losses. Time Lords live nearly forever, but humans are fragile. I can't – I just can't. How can I be saddled with such a destiny?

So, I stood in the shadows and watched the life of these people, while I thought about whether I should stay or just move on. I fancied myself the savoir of the universe, the Doctor, the one who makes things better, but it seems that I was leading my own self on, like a fool.

The eternal fool.

I should have really left then but I didn't. I just looked at the pretty, twilight. Twilight in Delhi was beautiful and simple. It touched my saddened hearts a little, stirred up some of the old enthusiasm. I smiled thinly. That was when I saw her stumbling towards me, looking like she saw an angel. And I sensed her - just a tiny, little thing like a speck diamond from midnight that made her stand out clear.

She was studying me like a person who's trying to figure out where they've seen you before, with confusion, and eagerness, and a little doubt.

I saw her mouth moving in the dark while she thought and, I read the phrases that spilled soundless from her lips.

"His clothes …. They're strange, it can't be… it can't be…" Someone who hadn't seen the future couldn't tell if my clothes were one thing or the other. Normally no one even notices it - the perception filter field that follows me around makes sure I have anonymity when I want it. That's when I realized that she was out of her time. And she was curled down on the cold street, having a panic attack, or a psychotic break, hard to tell with humans sometimes. But she was very small.

I went to her, put my hand out hesitantly.

_Donna's face flashed in my mind - her brash, desperate voice, "Save them!"_

I pulled her against me, and soothed her and rocked until she got quiet. Then she looked up with eyes full of tears, "Who are you?"

And I told her.

* * *

When I woke up later, I found myself laid out on his coat. Whose coat though? My thoughts refused to be caught and held.

"Who was it?" I sat up suddenly and my head gave a woozy after trail, my eyes blurry. They cleared and I looked around. I was in a large engine room of sorts, the floor under me, a metal grating, and under it, numerous wires and thick hose like cords. Everything beneath it was modern, and it was like sticking your head under the hood of a car except that it was more complicated. The walls were organic, and orangish, with hexagonal impressions, and the coral supports are curved. There was a central console with a column rising from it to meet the high ceiling. There was a mad combination of switches, knobs and other curious doodads scattered on the console.

I caught sight of the tall man in the wonderful pinstripe suit leaned against the console, and I was never in my life so happy to see pinstripes.

I grinned, and my face must have stretched out in such an expression, "This is amazing!"

"Oh, you're up…didn't expect you to be, so soon…don't get up yet, you fainted… just sit there and relax… now then what's your name?" He came and sat cross legged in front of me in a flurry of energetic movement, and stuck a silver cylindrical device in my face – it buzzed on a low frequency and had a blue light at the tip. He scanned me with it and murmured in satisfaction, "Temporal displacement energy, a bit anemic, but other than that you're fine – now tell me, what year are you from?"

I frowned, "Funny way to ask a person 'when' they're from before you ask they're name."

Wow, I hadn't been mouthy like that with a stranger in ages.

He looked like I dribbled on his shirt right that moment, then grinned like an idiot, "Hah, right you are, since ave already told you mine, you're at a disadvantage…"

I nodded - chagrinned at his cheekiness.

"So, what's your name then?" He leaned forward – good naturedly.

"My name's Chandini." I said automatically and got up, then realized. It had been my name for the last two years. Jenny didn't quite fit – given the era and place, and my ambiguous ethnicity. In other words Jenny was quite _white_.

"No," I laughed a little, "My name's actually Jenny."

"Jenny…" He echoed.

"Yes." I replied, "Is something wrong with that?"

He looked sad, then smiled slightly, "No, nothing at all…except my daughter's name was Jenny…well she wasn't really my daughter, except she was…" He mumbled into the air.

The moment was awkward.

"There's nothing wrong at all." He stated resolutely then jumped up to his feet and started circling the console in a burst of that energy that seemed pooled inside him, "Soooo-ah, Jenny with a J, where and when is home?" His hand hovered over a lever.

I then remember, and I stop him, "I can't – not now."

He looked at me inquiringly, and the small quirk of his eyebrow unnerved me.

"Not that I don't want to…go back home… can I have a few days, until the end of the week…" It won't be right to just disappear – Anusha has been so good to me, "I need to say good bye to a few people."

He sighed and dare I say he looked just the least bit crestfallen? "Of course, I understand, I'll walk you back, and use the time to maybe see what my TARDIS dropped me off here for."

The shadowed look withdrawing from his features - A determination has crept into his stance. And I see that he's different from when I first ever lay eyes on him.

He's light, and grace and intensity.

It's the second time I'm seeing him.


	3. Chapter 3

_The sky was dark indigo and sparkling with thousands of pinpoints of starlight. They chatted as they walked - town and buildings blending into rural bush and nature - shadows of lone trees. The soft scent of grass was perfect – loamy, earthy and fragrant. She held her hands gracefully behind her back and moved with an understated charm and dexterity, "So, you're telling me you're a time traveller? That you didn't get zapped back, like I did?" She turned to the doctor so that she was carelessly walking backward._

* * *

Was I a time traveller? Was I ever! I told her, and shoved my hands in my trusty coat pockets. Not one of my more frequent gestures. Shoving hands in pockets, not something that speaks 'oncoming storm'. I could say honestly say that for now, I could do with out it. She looked at me with gleaming raven eyes, curious and skeptical all at the same time - depthless and smokey like the way stars look when they're being born. I checked my urge to stare at them. Felt around for my sonic instead and scanned as we walked. She walked over to a small watering pond -the kind that attracted the local life stock – and knelt there; looking at her self in the reflection.

"Do you know what sent you back here?" I spoke to break the silence that we found ourselves in.

"A statue, an angel was there the day that I ….I …."_The day she fell in time._

"Weeping angel," I nod knowingly – a dangerous yet pesky species. The silent assassins –quantum locked creatures. My guess is as good any celestial being as to why they evolved like that. No one knows their origins, not even us, the holders of the universes. Just me now though, and I'm not really one to hold universes. I just liked the running and adventuring and the… _endangering others_.

I felt the pangs of emotional pain again, the loss. _Donna begging me not to do it… and I did… I had to…_

I smashed the memories down, and quickly came back to the present – coming to knell next to her – inclining towards her, sympathetic towards her – The man with the blue box - the mad man; me, the one who would take her home.

I could take her home, and redeem myself alittle. I flashed the girl my biggest smile.

Smiles are honest things in my book, easy to read. Blimey there's a smile for everything. Sad, conniving, happy, reassuring, lying, and then they're the ones that hide. The ones that keep you safe and others from seeing how broken you touched my face then, soft and lingering. The soft whorls of the nearly invisible ridges, those unique patterns called finger prints, I counted them in a strange fit of oddity, as if I wasn't odd enough already. I smiled at her.

"You're a miracle you know." The early night fresh around us – cool. And she sounded bittersweet.

"A miracle…." _Despite whatever happened to you._

She leaned in and touched her lips to my forehead chastely. She was graceful and got up with a slight swirl of silky sari.

I couldn't help but feel that there was more meaning to that word miracle, there was more in her touch, her sweet sad tone. The way she kept distance like a daughter, but the way it felt like balm from the valley people of Zen five - warm and friendly, innocent. That was it! She had just tried to put balm on that part of me that was so sad. There was that slightly cinnamon twinge of pity.

She had just tried to comfort me.

She looped on a head of me, feet hitting the dusty track, suddenly a lone figure - a silhouette of serenity.

She was an example of why I like humans so much.

* * *

She was walking away from me with a slinky swing to her hips, and she was throwing something hand to hand and it jangled. She had taken it out her satchel and was playing with it. She threw it at me and I caught it one handed. She looped back to me, grinning.

"Authentic brass _gongorus _eighteen hundred India," She had a twinkle in her eyes. Those bells meant a lot to her.

"Bells for dancing…. For keeping rhythm when Dancers move…. Whens the last time I had one in my hands … ooohhhh feel that, doesn't change, these – I saw some in the twenty second century… yep … humans and your trinkets…" I cooed as I threw them up and heard their brass sounds. She took them back from me protectively.

"I dance… the village has enough festivities and weddings and its fabulous – perks of being dumped in time, you get to see the real deal, the origin as you can only dream of. I thought I would go and sneak in as a courtesan and steal the spot light."

I stared at her.

* * *

He was staring at me shrewdly and there was that little streak of awkward heat. How big can this man's eyes get anyhow? They had a habit of rounding out to the size of saucers at times - Or maybe just getting big enough to disconcert me.

"Don't think anything untoward about me… I'm a perfectly respectable girl … or I will be unless this gets out…. I was just soo dying curious to what the court houses were really like, all that allure and mystery. I had to be a heathen and make myself the center."

I blushed, not believing I said all this to a stranger. No, one knew except Anusha and I begged her not to tell anyone. I held my finger to my lips and gave an impish grin.

"I understand." The Doctor said simply and held up his palms, "There'll be no secrets out this night love!" He feigned a Scottish accent and I broke into giggles.

"Dancers are all jus' reckless thrill seekers at heart… but don't tell anyone I said that," I made a zipping motion at my mouth. He coloured a little.

"I have a friend that might like meeting you." The Doctor whistled, "But he's rather hard to get hold of."

I shrugged, and mock frowned, "I can imagine – any friend of yours can't be normal."

He laughed, "No… he isn't… but neither are you…. Miss back in time."

Oh, double edged words. This walking puzzle on skinny legs was giving me attitude – cheeky, funny, taunting attitude. Refreshing, this night chat – I was wide awake. Tingling and wide awake.

Feeling like I would when I take the ground to dance. The least bit breathless.

This dance though was going to be one of a kind.

* * *

_The simple bungalow was silent, and Jenny knocked on the door softly. A few minutes passed when someone opened the door and poked their head out. A sleepy voice came quietly, "Chandy … your back already," some sleepy sounds issued, "It's early, did something happen?"_

_Jenny tried to speak in hushed tones, "Shhhh, nothing happened, let me in."_

_The door swing open, and the other girl regarded the skinny the Doctor with a gaping mouth. Jenny pushed past her and he followed, smiling brightly, "I'm the doctor, nice to meet you!"_

_The girl woke up at the sight of the strange man and gaped. The Doctor teased, "Not nice gaping at a stranger like that."_

_She ignored him, "You bought a man home! And he's… he's …" words failed her._

_"What white?" Jenny retorted, then took the girl by the arms, "Anusha would you just stay quiet - you'll wake Amit, shhh….."_

_The girl hissed, "What's he doing with you?"_

_Jenny huffed sarcastically, "He disgraced me and now I want him to marry me – so my honor is saved."_

_"What Chandy!" _

_"Noooo…. Stupid, He … ummm saved me from a leech who tried to hold me up… and he offered to walk me home." She lied and glanced at the man who was the promise of time travel back to her correct time with shiny eyes. Anusha relaxed visibly, "Then he'll get going… now! Thank you Doctor who ever you are – but you should leave before my brother wakes up."_

_The Doctor shrugged in a gesture of surrender, cool and effortless. Anusha stopped for a minute and scrutinized him. She yawned abruptly and shut the door on him before Jenny could protest. "Now that was just rude….. It's not supposed to work like that!" he wailed. The door opened and the other girl glared again. A sure promise of a not very pleasant encounter with a blood related male was radiated from those dark grey eyes._

_He backed away this time._

_Ole fella you must really be losing your touch._


	4. Chapter 4

**So I redid this chapter, I really didn't like the other one much after I read it a couple of times because it was just to obvious and not very helpful to the story. **

**But this one seems nicer, and actually sets up the story for where I want it to go**

**So enjoy!**

* * *

The fire blazed, crackled orange with hazy after trails –glorious in its intensity - eating wooden dwelling after dwelling. The wood, old zinc sheets and mud did not stand a chance against the angry element; the angry licks of flame ate them, turning them to smoldering cinders. The nearby forest burned as well. The smoke was thick in the clearing sky. The morning star winked out as the sun came out of its hiding place, and suddenly everything was afire in light. The village burned and the villagers screamed, as the made mad attempts at putting it out.

The wells and water stores were plundered and gave up their meager contents.

"Dry?" was echoed in shocked echoes, "Dry!"

Then the hysteria broke out.

The Doctor hadn't gone back to his TARDIS after all, he choose to spend the night in a seedy looking inn that was at the back of a courtesan's court – a place that was a few notches down from a full brothel. He laid down in his room with its makeshift shrine of a idol, flowers, and flame, a bottle green satin curtain - listened to the high peals and chimes of laughter, and bracelets and gongorus – counting the beats and keeping the rhythm in his head.

_Da Din Da_

Humans seeking thrills, romance, excitement – the soft, graceful motions of a pretty girl, drawing intoxication from the neem leaves - to drink and pretend that the night lasted forever, with fragrance of incense lightly lulling them, and the perfume of smooth, tempting skin. He could almost see the swirls of silk, and gold – and sighed. Since when had he become so familiar with humans and their culture – so simplistic yet so complex?

Many a man would come here to seek comfort – He wondered about the last time he sought pleasures of flesh?

Certainly when he was young and just out of Galifrey, a runaway from a regime that strictly forbid what was deemed unnecessary, in that thrilling blur of freedom he might have tasted what the universe had in store. He hadn't lived for nine hundred plus years, without doing his fair share of dancing, but he was no Jack Harkness who could drop, or be the one dropping trousers or skirts at an alarming rate. But dancing with human's was so much more intricate, so many emotions and outcomes – so fussy a species when it come to love and procreation; and yet they were so very close to his own that he felt at home with them. It was like looking in a mirror with a slightly different tint – the reflection was the same but with different colours.

Perception was ought to agree with him – funny thing that was.

The sun was leaking light and pushing shadows back from his room before he realized it. And he stretched and made his way back to the village which wasn't far. He wanted to pop up with a bright "Hello" just to see the sleepy, annoyed expression of Jenny's hostess and maybe end up teasing them. And spend the day in the village, or the week – because he knew that the lost in time girl had no intentions of leaving this day or the next. She would leave but not tying up loose ends – saying goodbye. He would do things like that as well. As he neared the village, he felt an alarming wash of foreboding. There was an unearthly silence, there was no one in the fields feeding cattle or clucking over crops. There was an absence of everyday chatter and domestic sounds

The village felt like the shadow of death hung over it.

He quickened his steps, feeling in his gut, knowing something was wrong – and then ran.

The nearby village burned to the ground faster than anyone could believe, and the news had spread quickly – far quicker than it seemed humanly possible to the nearby villages. It reached them shortly and left them fearing for them selves.

The Doctor found Jenny on the edge of the village, gazing into the distance numbly.

"I heard what happened - Jenny." He looked into her wide eyes, she cast them down - looking at him hurt in a vague way she didn't like.

"We could see the fire from here," she whispered, "We could see the sky turn dark."

"Did you hear what caused it?" The Doctor asked, "Did they say?"

"Arson – someone set the fire, and people got hurt, and someone died saving their child." She sounded upset.

"But that's not what your scared of is it?" He sensed something more, had seen it almost plain on the unaffected villager's faces, "You're afraid of it happening here?"

She nodded, a tear running down her face, then another to join the first, "There's been so many fires lately, and I know that I could leave anytime, but until yesterday this was where I was going to live forever, and everyone's afraid that Sindoor will be the next to burn down, and that we'll have no water when it does and… and then …" She sniffed.

"Are then what?" He crooked an eyebrow.

"Then they won't be able to pay the land tax, and they'll be sold out as slaves to the new world." She shouted and covered her mouth in surprise at her own boldness, "Sorry."

The Doctor waved away the apology airily, and smiled, "No need for it." She let out a sigh of relief, she was glad he hadn't gotten angry at her shouting.

"You're worried and justifiably so, eighteen hundred India can be rough – putting it mildly, but I'm here and why don't we see if we can get to the bottom of this mystery?"

"Mystery?" She echoed.

"Yes, mystery as in who killed the butler, except now it's a game of 'Who's been playing with matches!'" Or if there were any matches involved at all. He grabbed her hand, "Alon-si!"

* * *

**Right, reviews in order, how did you like that? any complaints? Anything at all? Author likes reviews, Author likes them very much.**


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